Backstage
by This Account Is Totally Dead
Summary: ONE SHOT - "What is it with you and beating me..." he asked, as she turned and stomped off.


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Backstage.   
  
Thanks to Paige (Pogue Mahone, for beta'ing and convincing me to post this story, to Sam (whatever your pen-name is) for making me want to write something about Numbah 1 and Numbah 86, and to the Pad Thai restaurant near my house for letting me type even after I finished eating and paid, and for giving me free soup, even though we all knew they could have kicked me out.   
  
This is an odd little story, and so people reading this because of my humor fiction (OFUKND and Codnam: Kidz NEXT Doer, respectively) will find that this is not humorous at all. Eh... it's called, "Why Parron normally doesn't write drama!" as well as "Backstage."  
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_Final warning: The story is not written in chronological order. Some parts take place during season 1, some during season 2, several before they became agents at all and a couple in the future. Try not to get confused; the story is meant to make sense as a whole. . I sound so... meh.   
  
I make one reference not everyone will get: European Football is Soccer to Americans, not the thing with touchdowns and linebackers. So there it is explained.  
  
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The first day of school is never fun, especially when you're six years old and have never been in any educational system more then day-care. The elementary school's yard was paved and filled with children ages six to twelve waiting for the school day to begin, and one group of children around the age of ten were looking intently through the crowds.   
  
"What about that 'un? The little blonde girl," one of them asked, a tall brunette girl with an accent proving her to be from England. The child in question tripped suddenly over a rock and began to cry.  
  
"Too wussy." one of her male companions replied, brushing red bangs from his face. His accent was American.   
  
The other boy in the group was silent, fingering a key-chain attached to his belt with a small plastic logo reading "KND" on it. He looked around, only to see a small girl with short red hair in tiny pigtails staring at them unblinkingly.   
  
"Are you going to steal the kids?" She asked, Irish accented and completely serious.   
  
He turned to face her fully, his other two companions still looking for suitable agents. "Why would I be...?"  
  
"You're picking people for something," the little girl said. "Who are you?"   
  
"I'm..." A pause as he decided what name to use. "Numbah 781 of the Kids Next Door commissioning squad."   
  
"I'm Francine Elizabeth Fullbright."   
  
"That's a big name..."   
  
The girl was silent. "What's a Kids Next Door?"  
  
He explained, and the girl pointed to a little boy with sunglasses playing an impromptu football game -- the European sort -- nearby. "Nigel says he wants to join. He's my neighbor, but he wouldn't tell me what it was."  
  
"Do you want to be a KND agent, then...?"  
  
Francine nodded seriously. "I want to be a commissioning head too."   
  
"That's what I am..."  
  
She nodded solemnly in reply.  
  
  
  
"What are you doing here?" Nigel exclaimed, pointing at his next door neighbor in order to really make his point clear.   
  
"I'm a Kids Next Door too." she replied, smugly. "Numbah 781 said I could be if I wanted."  
  
"Who's that...?"  
  
"You don't know?" She was very smug now. "He's the person who chooses who becomes a member. Didn't you know? I guess that means I'm more important then you."  
  
"No, you're not!" Nigel said, pride hurt.   
  
"Well, I will be someday..."  
  
"Don't count on it!"  
  
  
  
"Well, look at this old bean. We have neighbors now!"   
  
"I see, dad." Nigel replied, peering out the window at the truck outside. A family was moving in, mother and father, little girl and baby.   
  
"That girl looks just about your age. You should be friends..."   
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Go outside and say hello then!"   
  
Nigel did, and moments later introduced himself to his new neighbor.   
  
She frowned. "You're like my little brother."   
  
"But that's a toddler?" Nigel said, looking around for other brothers.   
  
"Mm," she nodded. "But everyone is always saying that my brother's like my cousin, and I don't like him any."   
  
With youth comes immaturity. "Well, I don't like you either...!"  
  
  
  
It was the first day for new agents up at the Kids Next Door moonbase. Teams were being assigned, and groups were meeting up for the first time, and they would be together for the next five years.   
  
Nigel had just met his team, a group of five he would be leading, and had received his number -- 1 -- and was about to head back home to settle in when he saw her sitting dejectedly in a corner.   
  
He didn't go over to see what was wrong, he went over to gloat.   
  
"Want to meet my team...? Where's yours...?"   
  
She looked up, not sadly but angrily. A piece of paper with the number "86" printed on it was pinned to her shirt. "Shut up, Nigel. You're just a stupid..."  
  
"Want to meet my team? I'm in charge of it!"  
  
"Numbah 781 said I need more training..." she explained.  
  
"Oh, so you're stupid then?" Nigel replied, and immediately felt sorry when she looked surprised and pained. "Sorry..."  
  
"Shut up, you stupid... boy!" she yelled, standing up. "That's the problem, all you boys are so... dumb! You're always stupid and mean, and 781 made these stupid promises that obviously...!"  
  
"Did you like him??" Nigel asked, astonished. She blushed pink and sat back down.   
  
"Go away, you idiot boy."  
  
  
  
A year is a long time when you're eight, and when it was over Nigel had almost forgotten about the events around his old neighbor. It was only when he had gotten summoned to the head quarters, and passed the assembly room where he had last seen her that the thought sprung back to mind...  
  
The irony being she was the reason, as it turned out, he had been summoned in the first place.  
  
There was a top Kids Next Door member being decommissioned, the old head of decommissioning himself. After his removal from the agency, the new one -- his apprentice -- would be initiated, and there would be a party.   
  
"Is that you?" Nigel had gasped, seeing his old acquaintance. She turned and grinned, cocky.   
  
"Well, if it isn't... Numbah 1." she said, using his proper title instead of his name. "Welcome to my party."  
  
"You're the... head, then?"  
  
"That's why I needed my extra training, you see." she said, proudly. "I told you I'd be a better agent then you... didn't I?"  
  
  
  
At the academy, there was a blizzard outside and hard training going on in. Various children who wanted to be Kids Next Door agents were running through obstacle courses, learning to build 2 x 4 technology weapons, and testing out those weapons on the shooting ranges.  
  
Actually, only two people were using the shooting ranges, a red haired girl and a boy with very little hair at all.  
  
"Just give it up!" Nigel taunted, getting a perfect bulls-eye when shooting.  
  
The girl frowned, and shot her mustard-gun -- her favored weapon. She also got a perfect center.   
  
"I'm better then you, just wait! You'll miss eventually." was the confident reply.   
  
After a few more minutes, she missed the target and Nigel was proclaimed victor. "What's is it with you and beating me...?" he asked, as she turned and stomped off.  
  
  
  
"We have to obey her, she... outranks us." Nigel sighed, kicking the dirt. Numbah Four frowned. "But that's not fair!"  
  
"She's no better then us!" Numbah Two proclaimed, and Nigel quirked an eyebrow in surprise at the words.  
  
  
  
"You have to be a good role-model for your brother, Francine. No more fighting."  
  
Nigel waiting for her mother to stop the lecture before asking. "Fighting?"  
  
She stuck out her tongue. "It's none of your business, Nigel."  
  
Upon asking around, he discovered that she had been fighting with an older boy, thirteen years old to her seven. He had been rude, and called her brother a "sped." Nigel was impressed; he didn't know if he'd have the guts to fight someone twice his size and age.  
  
  
  
"What's a 'sped?'"  
  
"Someone with brain problems. Don't use that word."  
  
"Is Francine's brother a sped?"  
  
"I said, don't use that word. Go play outside until dinner."  
  
Once outside, Nigel realized his question hadn't been answered.  
  
  
  
"Before you can even hope to become a Kids Next Door agent, you need to know why you want to be one. This isn't for fun."  
  
"I hate teenagers," she said, face set and jew clenched.   
  
Nigel remembered her black eye and her mother's lecture after fighting with the thirteen year old. "I hate teenagers more then anything," he said resolutely.  
  
She looked at him suspiciously, but didn't say a word.  
  
  
  
"You know how old I am...!" Nigel yelled, "We went to school together!"  
  
Although she was a distance away, it was easy to see her grin. "I decommission who the computer tells me too...!"  
  
She seemed a little too pleased, really, and Nigel had the sinking feeling he knew why. What a better way to end the rivalry then to get rid of the rival? Had he had a chance to think, he might have noted the odd feeling of betrayal... but Nigel was far too busy running for his memory.  
  
"Isn't that little Francine from next-door?" his father asked, waving.  
  
  
  
"What are you doing here?" Nigel said cruelly. She looked away, and dropped her over night bag on the floor.   
  
"Francine is staying the night while her brother goes to the hospital with her parents," his father said, taking the red-head by the shoulder and guiding her to the guest room. Confused, Nigel picked up the bag and followed.  
  
"Why's your brother need the hospital?"  
  
"'Cause he's an idiot." the reply was muffled by the pillow she was lying on.   
  
  
  
"You three, stay here! You boys are all so dumb, just like my idiot brother!" She yelled, pointing at a patch of grass that the males of Nigel's team should stay on. "Guard that flower or something."  
  
"What's her problem?" Numbah Two asked.  
  
Nigel didn't know, either.  
  
  
  
"I... ah, never said this before, but... I'm sorry." she muttered, nodding her head. "I should have checked."  
  
The apologetics was cut short as she prepared to go decommission Numbah 274, but she turned to face the agents one more time. "I can re-commission you, if you'd like... just think about it, alright?"  
  
"That's unusually nice." Nigel commented lowly after she left, forgetting that his team couldn't remember that yet.  
  
"She doesn't seem that bad...?" Numbah Five said uncertainly, not sure whether or not her statement held truth.  
  
"I guess not...!"   
  
  
  
Nigel stood by as the machine was started up to return his team's memories.   
  
"It'll take a minute..." she said, standing beside him. "It takes longer to return memories then take them."  
  
"That's how it works with everything..." Nigel said stupidly, but the general meaning was understood and she flushed pink.  
  
"I resign." she said after a minute. Nigel, shocked, turned to face her.  
  
"From decommissioning head?!"  
  
"No, never...!" accompanied by a vicious shake of the head. "From our contest."  
  
"Contest?"  
  
"I suppose I'm not better...?" She asked shyly, looking for a compliment. Nigel considered how humbled she was now, and that -- knowing her -- it wouldn't last much longer, only until she felt her apology was adequate.   
  
"You're just great! I could never decommission anyone..."  
  
She glanced sidewise. "It's not a fun job... I'd rather have team, you know."  
  
"But you're a very important member!" Nigel protested, trying to get the compliment to stick.  
  
She raised and lowered again one shoulder.  
  
Nigel was silent for a minute. "Why'd you start the contest, anyway...?"  
  
She looked over, eyes wide. "Because you were better then me!"  
  
  
  
He was bored, so he had gone over to next-door to play. The little brother was there, sitting alone in the living room and building blocks, and Nigel invited himself over to join.   
  
"What are we making...?"  
  
The little boy, around four, made a sound like gagging. "Blok!" he screamed happily. "Blok blok!!!" He was chubby and his eyes glazed... all of the little boy excreted wrongness. Something was wrong with him.  
  
Nigel placed a block on a tower, and the boy screamed again. "Blok!" He cried and knocked the tower over.   
  
"Don't mind him...! He just has learning problems!" His mother said, hurrying into the room and cooing at the kid.   
  
When Nigel went home and asked his mother, she said it was something some babies were born with called "Autism."  
  
  
  
"What do you mean, better...?"  
  
"My brother liked you more!" she accused.   
  
"I was nicer..."  
  
"You're not his brother...!" She said meanly. "And if he liked you more, then maybe my parents would take you instead!"  
  
"That's dumb...!" Nigel said, rather too loudly.  
  
"I heard them...!!" she yelled. "'If only she was more like Nigel Uno!'"  
  
"Maybe you could be nicer and..."  
  
"I shouldn't have to be! Being nice made my brother a 'sped.' Now he's just an 'idiot.'"   
  
Nigel was silent at that, and the machine re-commissioning his team slowed down and stopped.  
  
  
  
It was another three weeks before Nigel went up to Headquarters again. He went out of his way to run into her, going to the decommissioning wing and poking about until someone finally asked what the heck he was trying to do...?  
  
"What do you want?" she said meanly, but distracted and examining a clipboard full of thirteen year old agents.  
  
Nigel swallowed, feeling somewhat dumb for the trip now that he was here. He had lied to his team about the purpose, and now wished he could throw away the box and hide in a corner until it was time to go home. Too late now...  
  
He handed her the box, and she looked at it surprised.  
  
Glanced up and looked his in the eye, puzzled.   
  
"Happy birthday, Nu...Francine." He said nervously.  
  
"Why are you doing stupid things like this...?" the question was, before she turned to leave the room.   
  
  
  
But Nigel thought that, when she eventually would open the box, she'd like the gift.  
  
And then they'd really be even, wouldn't they?  
  



End file.
